


My Sweet Mate

by WitchZakuro



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Creepy Pennywise (IT), Don't Like Don't Read, Fluff, M/M, Mates, Mind Rape, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Touching, Not Beta Read, Possessive Pennywise (IT), Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut, Swearing, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24803014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchZakuro/pseuds/WitchZakuro
Summary: Victor Criss bites off more than he can chew. Pennywise is happy to oblige.
Relationships: Pennywise (IT)/Victor Criss
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	1. Bite and Tear

**Author's Note:**

> This is my only story that won't be beta read. I should have been writing chapters for my other stories, but I ended up writing this instead. I dont know what this is, i just really wanted to write it. I hope whoever reads it enjoys it.

Victor “Vic” Criss stared at the opening of the sewers with great disdain. He had no interest in actually finding the fat kid or that club of losers. On the other hand, if he let Patrick go alone, the moron was likely to kill the kid. Patrick was almost as bad as fucking Bowers. The two of them were insane. But Vic believed that you keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.  
  
He knew it was a form of self preservation, and in this town you couldn't get enough of that. Vic knew, more than most, that Derry was fucked. People vanished, kids went missing, crime was never solved. It freaked him the fuck out. What’s worse is no one else noticed. Heck, that loser Bill was the only person in this entire fucking town that still looked for a missing kid.  
  
Aligning himself with Bowers was a no brainer. The dick took all the attention away from him, Patrick and Belch were loud and creepy respectively. Vic was just the quiet one in the gang, the smallest and least noticeable. It suited him just fine. And yeah, it was kind of a power trip to fuck with the others in town, but he never liked going to far.  
  
Bowers and Patrick always went too far, like now for instance. Who tries to carve their name into some fat kids stomach? Who cares if the kid wanted to hang with Bill and his gang? Bowers was just fucking feeling shit cause of his dad, feelin like Bill and his friends were taking control away from him.  
  
And Patrick going after the kid, like he can do any better than Bowers, that was just for the sadistic pleasure. The psycho got off on weird shit like that. The fucker was caring around his own flame thrower, like, what the fuck? Not that any adult in this god forsaken town was ever going to notice. His own mother was so up her own ass that most of the time she forgets she even has a kid. It suited him just fine, the woman could have her drugs and he could leave this god forsaken town in a couple years.  
  
Following a couple steps behind Patrick, he stops, unable to bring himself to cross the threshold into the sewer. Something was seriously fucked inside that place. Looking into the darkness made his skin crawl, cold sweat making his hands clammy. He can’t help but marvel as Patrick just walks in, without a fucking care. How any of these morons survive is beyond him.  
  
Fuck, what if the kid really is down there. He can’t just leave him. Not with Patrick and this oppressive darkness. Taking a deep breath he steps inside. Taking out his own lighter and using it. The darkness is fuckin wrong, too dark and thick. His lighter should be brighter, let alone the light from that fuckers torch.  
  
Wrapping an arm around his chest, he walks down the tunnels. At least Patrick is wearing yellow, making it easy to follow him. Ahead he can hear steps, causing him to pause. Glancing around he holds his lighter higher. When the light of the torch goes again he can see them, fucking dead children walking. Dead eyes and rotting flesh, creepy little grins on their faces, blood soaking their torn clothes. Fuck this shit and fuck Patrick. Pushing the taller boy forward with as much force as he can, he takes off running the way they came. No way is he spending another second here.  
  
After a few twists and turns, Vic promptly notices he is lost. It makes no sense, they only made one turn in this entire fucking tunnel system. Stopping to catch his breath, he pants hard. He knew he should not have fucking come in here. Everything in Derry is fucking cursed. It's only a moment of rest but soon he's running again.  
  
A giggling voice starts to follow him, echoing in the tunnels around him. The voice makes the hairs on his neck stand up. It’s fucking wrong. It’s high and gravely all at once. It makes him think of dark nights and hunting hyena’s. It implore’s him to keep running, to seek safety. Suddenly he hears the giggle right in front of his face. He jerks back and loses his balance, falling back on his ass into the cold water.  
  
A pair of yellow eyes stare down at him. He shuffles back as he stares back. A light starts to appear over the eyes, slowly illuminating a painted wite face, with red lines. A mouth filled with sharp teeth, a bulbous forehead.  
  


“Hiya! What brings you down here? Come down to see old Pennywise?” The clown's voice was high and unsettling. It grated on Vic’s ears and horrified him at the same time. Nothing natural sounded like that. He couldn't bring himself to answer the freak of nature, backing up more and trying to find footing to stand on. As if it sensed his thoughts the clown frowns.  
  
“Think I’m a freak, do you? I'll show you! Show you what a freak I am!” The things eyes turn red, and before Vic can even scream it has lunged for him, its mouth open wide and biting into his shoulder and arm.  
  
At first it simply feels like pressure. He feels the grind of something against his bones, hear the tearing of flesh, warm liquid flowing down his chest. Then gradually the pain beings, a deep burning pain, that sears his very nerves and turns his bones to ash. His vision turns white and he screams out, beginning to struggle. This, this fucking thing will not be the end of him! He had to live through fucking Bowers and his bitch of a mother, this freak was not going to be the end of him!  
  
Wrenching his body forward, dislocating his shoulder with a painful pop, he pushes himself forward, closing the few inches they have apart. His other hand grabbing the things collar and pulling it down, he opens his own mouth. Every instinct he has is telling him to hurt as much as he is being hurt, it’s not hard to oblige. Shoving his face into the thing’s neck, he bites down as hard as he can, jerking his head back to tear off the chunk of flesh in his mouth.  
  
His mouth is filled with the taste of rot and a saccharine sweetness. Cold liquid drips down his chin before he can no longer feel it. The flesh in his mouth feels like a victory. It’s better than any sweet he has ever had. The cold slimy liquid slowly flows down the back of his throat, compelling him to swallow the delicious meat he earned.  
  
The cold settles in his stomach, it feels soothing and comfortable. It makes Vic want to curl up and bask in his success. His eyes cloud over in his haze, staring ahead at nothing, feeling nothing but the bliss of the cold. He is unaware when the clown slowly pulls back and stares at him, its yellow eyes wide in shock.  
  
 _The human tried to eat It in retaliation. In all ITs many years in this place, nothing has tried to eat It. It was superior to these creatures. More than they could ever comprehend. Their fear and flesh are only useful in feeding Its hunger. But this little creature had every intention of eating It. While in Its feeding haze, It had not noticed when the little creature stopped feeling afraid and felt the need to live so strongly, that it would bite the predator before it._ _  
__  
__It giggled. No human was ever this fun. No human had consumed a bit of IT before. The little thing was his now. The little one ate him and It ate some of the little one. It would make sure the little one was fed before they slept. It’s flesh would change the little one, make it more like It. The little one would need to eat well for the changes to be smooth._   
  
Picking up his small human, Pennywise stands and begins walking back to his home. He would need to groom and assure the comfort of his human. They get cold and hungry with ease. The little one will be very hungry before the long rest. Maybe the little one would like more of its flesh, he would give plenty to help the change. Lucky that the little one came in with another weak human, they could feast together on the yummy flesh.


	2. Bond

Waking up is slow and difficult. The dream he had was strange but comforting. Someone was holding him and whispering sweet things. He felt warm and sated, even with the ice cold feeling radiating from his stomach. He was so safe in his dream, nothing would ever be able to hurt him. Shifting slightly he goes still when he feels a painful pull on his shoulder.    
  
Awareness crashes down on him like a hammer. A fucking clown tried to kill him and Patrick was murdered by a bunch of fucking zombie children. Forcing himself to sit up and biting his lip when he feels his limp arm protest the movement, he tries to look around. It's dark, but there is enough light to see he is in some kind of room, the floor is covered in blankets and pillows. The more he wakes the more fucking disgusting it gets.   
  
The room reeks of rot and popcorn of all things, the blanket he is sitting on is damp and smells like blood. It takes everything not to gag as he crawls over to the nearest wall. He feels gross and dirty. He remembers he fell into the fucking sewer water, it can’t be good for the wound on his shoulder. Once he gets to the wall he uses it to stand, leaning heavily against it. He needs to get his shoulder back in the socket. It’s going to hurt like a bitch. He has no idea where the fucking monster clown is.   
  
Grabbing his tattered shirt and gently taking it off, he shoves the cloth into his mouth and bites down. Then he slowly grabs the wrist of his limp arm and pulls the arm forward, he can’t keep himself from screaming, the pain white hot and consuming. He can hear and feel when the shoulder pops back into its socket. Panting hard he leans more weight onto the cold wall, feeling tears running down his face as he spits out his ruined shirt.   
  
It seems like the clown didn't hear what he did, the only good fucking thing about this. He has no idea how long he stands there catching his breath. He can feel fresh blood running down his shoulder, but he won’t wrap it with any of the dirty shit in his room. That leaves running as his only option. He can make out the shape of the door, a sliver of light coming from it. It looks like one of those sliding doors in train compartments.    
  
Using the wall he slowly walks to the door, peeking out before he opens the door. The sight before he makes his mind go blank. He can see a giant pile of broken kids toys and clothes in the middle of a giant concrete room. He can't figure out where the light is coming from, but what freaks him out is all the fucking floating bodies and body parts.   
  
This can’t be happening. Things like this aren't real. Monsters don’t fucking exist. Clowns with a mouth of razor sharp teeth should not be fucking real. Bodies don’t float like that. A little hysterically he can't help but think that he finally found the all missing kids from town. The fucking clown from hell eats them.   
  
He needs to get out of here before the freak comes back to finish him off. Maybe if he is real lucky he will bleed out before it fucking finds him. Taking a deep breath, he pushes the door open a little more and slides out of the compartment. Turning to look at it he sees it's a circus car for Pennywise the Dancing Clown. What the fuck is this shit. Shaking his head he slowly starts to make his way to the opening he can see in the all.   
  
The closer he gets the more he can hear rushing water, it sounds like this room is connected to the sewers. Doing everything he can not to look at the floating bodies, he doesn't notice the bright yellow eyes watching him. The very same eyes slowly bleed red.   
  
“Where ya going little one? Not thinking of leaving are you? That would be real silly of you.”   
  
Vic goes still, adrenaline and horror filling him as he slowly turns his head toward the voice. The fucking clown is standing only a few feet from him, its eyes red and a snarl on its bloody lips. His eyes are drawn to what the clown is holding, feeling himself gag as he sees the body of Patrick, the other boy's leg being held in the freak's clawed hand. His eyes slowly trail back to the clown's face, and before the thought can fully process he is running for the opening.   
  
He hears a very animal snarl behind him as he runs as fast as he can. It’s only a moment before he reaches the opening, a small speck of hope forming in his stomach before it shatters like glass. A large hand grabs him by the back of his neck and the next thing he knows he is weightless before crashing against a wall hard. Gasping for breath his vision goes blurry, watching the silhouette of the clown as it walks up to him. He feels mortified when he hears himself whine, the sound small and plaintive. He tried to sit up but was stopped with a pressure against his chest. Blinking dumbly he shakes his head.   
  
“Little one, you can’t leave me, Pennywise needs to take care of you.” The voice is softer than before, as he vision clears he can see the clown crouched next to him, eerie blue eyes gazing down at him. The clown moves a hand and runs it through his blonde hair gently. “You need to be punished, need to learn you don’t leave without me.”   
  
Whimpering he lifts his good arm and weakly tries to push the clown's face away, unprepared for the creature to lean into his arm and bite down on it hard. A scream is torn from his throat, his body arching in pain as more tears run down his cheeks. He would fucking fill the freak if he could. Break its bones and make it bleed as much as it’s making him bleed.   
  
_ It can’t help but purr as It’s little mates thoughts flow into his mind. The little thing is determined to live, and It is pleased by the little one’s desire for blood. He will make a wonderful hunter, but until then It needs to bond with his mate and care for the weak body. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Once the little one has bonded with It, It will need to feed him, and feed him well. The boy he came with will feed them well, but It will need more if It wants to have enough for both of them to hibernate. His little mate will need much to help with the transition. _ _   
_ _   
_ Calming down slowly, he blinks as he registers a low rumbling sound coming from the clown. Looking up he watches as it lets his arm go and licks the blood off his arm. Strangely enough the pain stops as it licks him. Gasping he tries to pull his arm away, but the clown just pulls him into its lap. The rumbling feels pleasant as he is pressed against its chest.   
  
“Please stop, please let me go, please...I don’t want to die.” More tears run down his face, he doubts the thing will listen to his pleas, but he needs to at least try. He is shocked to stillness once again as the thing shushes him gently and licks his tears with a long blue tongue. It begins to pet him with one hand as the other presses on his hip.   
  
“Pennywise won't kill you little one. You are mine now. Don’t you worry, you will understand soon.”   
  
He jerks in fear when the clown uses one clawed hand to tear his pants off his body. His heart beats fast and he runs his own nails down its face in desperation, leaving long bloody gouges behind. The thing snarls and swiftly bites into the back of his neck, its teeth only going deep enough to be a very efficient warning.   
  
He begins to sob in earnest when he feels a big hand wrapping around his limp member, trying to coax him into hardness. The clown makes a low sound when it doesn't seem to work and he feels it shift, setting him more into its lap. He feels something wet and cold press against him as the clown spreads his legs open. Looking down in horror he whimpers when he sees three florescent blue tentacles rubbing his thighs and ass. The things are dripping with cold blue fluid. He starts to panic more when he feels one gently rubbing around his rim.   
  


The clown tilts his head back gently and kisses him, forcing its long tongue into his mouth. The moment he is distracted by its tongue and the sugary sweet taste, one tentacle slowly pushes into his rim. It barely hurts and feels nothing like he was expecting. The tentacle gently starts pushing in and pulling out in a slow rhythm, its tongue following the same pattern as he swallows more of the liquid secreting from its tongue.   
  
As his heartbeat starts to slowly and his body adjusts to the tentacle he can feel his member getting hard, interested in the gentle stimulation. Soon a second tentacle is pushed into his rim, causing the first to press into a spot inside him. The touch makes his entire body jerk and he moans around the tongue in his throat. The rumbling from the clown gets louder as the hand returns to rubbing his member.   
  
This time the cool touch from its gloves cause his hips to jerk, seeking more from its hand. The third tentacle is finally pushed in and the pace moves faster, every thrust rubbing on the spot and making him see stars. His body is so hot and full, it feels wonderful. He could never wish for more as he moans obscenely, a small whine escaping him as the clown pulls its tongue from his throat. The tentacles thrust faster than before, he can feel the pleasure building up, making his mind fuzzy and light headed.    
  
It gently licks his wounded shoulder before slowly biting down. Instead of pain all he feels is a deep pleasure. The sensation sends him over the edge and he cums, its hand becoming a sticky mess. It's only a few seconds later that it cums, filling him with cold liquid. His body goes limp and his head lulling against its shoulder. He can feel gentle fingers in his hair and soft whispered words in his mind. Unable to keep his eyes open he slowly succumbs to darkness, feeling secure in its arms.


End file.
